The Madness Made Him Do It
by The-Turducken-Affairs
Summary: The Winchesters are under siege from all sides. They are on the national radar, again, something is after them, and Sam keeps turning up in random places with no memory of what's happened. Also, Dean may or may not be having a midlife crisis. (Season 8 AU)
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic here, so I would really appreciate if people who like (or don't like! D;) my story would share their opinions! **

**Disclaimer: I am only borrowing the Supernatural world (aka NOT MINE)**

**PROLOGUE:**

He whimpers, this broken, half-muted sound.

Above him stands a figure, one that terrifies him in the most primal of ways. His pulse spikes, his body trembles, his breath comes in short, harsh gasps, and he doesn't know if it would be better to die or not. This thing… This man, standing above him has hurt him and toyed with him, breaking down his mind, molding him into this withering sack of knotted up terror and base instinct.

He wants to yell, to tell the man _not to come any closer_. But he cannot. Screaming has torn up his throat and conditioning now makes his body clench at the idea of making noise. He is past the point of resistance. He wouldn't know how to use his fists on this monstrous man, and if he did, he is pretty sure his knuckles would burn on contact.

Nothing will work and even as he cowers, he accepts this.

Then the man leans forward, staring _straight at him_ and he thinks if biting his tongue off would work, he would do in a second. He wants to die, to not be in agony anymore, and the man knows all of this. The man will drag out his living, suffering, anguish and he doesn't know why. It is part of why the man is so terrifying.

The man is torment. The man had once grabbed at his face, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until the pressure was so strong his ears pop and he could feel his skull creaking. His hands had scrabbled at this restricting, unstopping force. The man had once kicked him, again and again and his flesh was so tender he screamed louder and louder. _You scream so pretty_. The man had told him that time.

He shivers and glistens with sweat, ghosting pain layering his body, and even though the man has left him here, alone, for days, he feels as if it is still happening. He's always in pain.

Now the man is back and his pain is gone, like he has reset himself, ready and totally cognizant, for this next time.

The man reaches his hand out and he flinches. Turns his head, clenches his eyes shut, on impulse even if it's useless. He feels the man's hand on him, petting him, rubbing his arms and shoulders, stroking his hair back. His abated torture is replaced by stark desperation, a brainless need for _this_. This touch. This surprising softness of the man. It is the other part of why the man is so terrifying.


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1:**

The world keeps on getting itself into trouble, like some sort of friggin' damsel in distress from Walker, Texas Ranger. It's always demons or angels or something. This time it's leviathan and enough is enough. Despite his indignity at Earth's inability to stay saved, he and Sam still have to save it. They're hunters.

When the baddie of the month, or year or however long, starts devastating in great magnitude, everyone they care about seems to die trying to stop it. The only people who seem to be immune to permanent death are Sammy and him. _Time to test that theory again. _

SucroCorp is going down, along with that son of a bitch Dick Roman.

They've given Bobby his hunter's funeral (again, for good), convinced Castiel to help them, sacrificed the Impala as a diversion, saved Kevin, blown up the labs, and now Dean stabs Dick in his gooey, black-blooded, douchebag neck. It happens so fast, almost as if they're professionals that actually know what they're doing.

Kevin, Castiel, Sam, and he are the only ones left standing in a partially destroyed corporate building. What the hell. Dean's glad, sure he is, but he's also suspicious.

Things never go this well. The time, uh, times when Dean was going to die, but didn't? He only survived because other people had to lose their lives so he could keep his. When Sam was brought back from the dead? That led to a dark path of a dark, violent Sam, both times. The time they stopped the Apocalypse and locked Lucifer in the cage? Alright, that worked out pretty well, but then there was the whole wall thing and traumatized Sammy and Heavenly civil war and other very serious, very bad nonsense.

The point is, world saving plans never go as planned.

Suddenly, the ground is quaking. There's rumbling and slippery goo floors and then this huge flash of light. Dean and Castiel are still standing above Dick's mushy remains and Dean's starting to think that this, for whatever reason, is a really bad place to be standing right now. He feels this ethereal tugging sensation right beneath his skin, and he's pretty sure when he opens his eyes, he's not going to be in SucroCorp looking at his brother or Kevin or Castiel. This was what he was waiting for, a shit storm.

Then it's over. He opens his eyes and he's still there, alive and not supernaturally derailed. He looks at Sam, who's giving him some sort of Nancy 'gosh am I ever so glad my brother's still alive' look, and Dean rolls his eyes. What a girl.

A few minutes later and the four of them walk out of the evil leviathan business war zone, like it's been a long day at the office and now they're going to go home. Also, everyone is still not dead. Did Dean mention he was suspicious?

* * *

'Things,' Sam decides, 'are going to work out.' When Dean and Castiel were cast in that strange, white light, Sam thought for sure he was going to lose Dean again. They were both still there though, with the worst thing having happened was momentary confusion, and Sam draws out a breath.

"Dean, I will find a safe place for Kevin. I don't want to alert the angels or the demons to where Kevin is, so I won't be able to answer your prayers," Castiel speaks, more focused on strategy and action than he has been in so long, and grabs an alarmed Kevin, who may or may not have been informed about what would happen after the fight.

The plan for after the final showdown, the optimistic one at least, was to have Castiel hide Kevin from all of their Supernatural enemies. So, Sam had expected Castiel to give them temporary farewells and disappear with their Advanced Placement Prophet of the Lord. Dean looks a little more perturbed though, and Sam thinks it may have more to do with Dean's prior trauma from when Castiel angel zapped him than being surprise that Castiel followed through.

The two of them stand outside the tattered building for a few more minutes, before Sam looks at Dean and shrugs, saying, "So… You want to go celebrate? I think I saw a bar on the way here."

It's enough to distract Dean from whatever his thoughts are, maybe worry, maybe porn, and Dean responds with, "At 4 in the afternoon? Why Samantha, I might just make a man out of you yet."

Sam scoffs and suddenly remembers that the Impala was a casualty of this war. Dean is going to be so mad. They'll be drinking whiskey tonight.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: They are not mine. :(**

**CHAPTER 2:**

It's been a couple of weeks since they demolished SucroCorp and Sam is in a motel, sitting on an old, lumpy mattress, waiting. He and Dean have been on a few easy hunts since the leviathan debacle and Dean seems determined to drag out their stay at every place they go. Sam thinks Dean deserves a break, which for Dean is an odd combination of liver damage, hunting, and careless hookups. He's not sure they can afford to rest though.

Yesterday they ganked a ghost, and to celebrate, went out for drinks. After about three beers, Dean had swaggered through the bar, chatting up girl after girl, before setting his eyes on a small, busty brunette with mischief in her eyes and a bottle in her hand. Dean had wrapped an arm around her, winked at Sam, and left. After that, Sam didn't see Dean for the rest of the night. Sam was too worried about how they were going to deal with Crowley to really unwind, so he left right after Dean did. Now, he's just waiting for Dean to get back to the motel.

* * *

Dean's strutting into their room, all cocky grins and jaunty movements. He hasn't been this peaceful in a long time and Sam's pretty sure he's about to mess it all up. Dean's saying something now and Sam furrows his brows, as if to say 'I hear what you're saying and I was totally listening this whole time.'

"Ah Sammy, I'm telling ya, these are the perks of the job. You should have seen her after we left the bar. She had these huge, bouncy breasts and the things she did with that tight little-"

Sam cuts him off, torn between brotherly horror and snorting at Dean's crass, but vivid description, "Dean."

"What?" Dean squawks, "Little Sammy can't handle hearing about true manhood? Man, you have got to get laid. Maybe if you did it more, you'd-"

"Dean," Sam warns him.

Dean finally gives up, realizing that Sam's not going to shift gears. He sighs, grumbling, "Alright, what is it princess?"

"We finished the hunt yesterday…"

"Okay?"

"What are we going to do now? We haven't really had much of a game plan these last few weeks."

"Game plan, Sam? We just toppled a whole organization, not to mention kicked that dick's ass, two weeks ago. I want to celebrate! Drive cross-country in the Impala, see the views," Dean raises his eyebrows at this, making it clear just which views he means, "Drink a lot of beer."

Sam looks away, not saying anything, steeling himself.

He turns back to look his brother in the eye, "Right, and I get that Dean. Believe me, I do. But Dick wasn't our only problem! The only reason Crowley wasn't all over us was because he was using us to fight the leviathans. Now that they're gone, Crowley is going to be coming at us full force. Not to mention, Frank's dead and even though we're legally dead as far as the law is concerned, I'm sure they're still suspicious about all the times we've 'faked' our deaths. They could still be on the lookout for two tall, criminal brothers driving an Impala, committing credit card fraud, and desecrating graves!" Sam speaks emphatically, trying to get his point across and hoping that Dean is in the mood to listen.

Apparently, he's not. Dean fidgets and looks irritated, almost childishly petulant. "Geez Sam. You might want to see if you can get that stick up your ass removed. It's pretty far up there, but don't worry, I'll schedule a doctor's appointment for it!"

Sam just looks at him, unruffled and determined. They glare at each other and Dean breaks eye contact.

He sighs, rubbing a hand across his jaw. "I know all that. But Sam, it's always something. When's the last time we really had a break? Time to wind down and not watch our backs for monsters? We're going to have plenty of problems, and I say, let's just live it up for now."

Dean's reasoning gives way to authoritative speaking, and he tells Sam, "I'm going to keep going to bars and banging chicks, you'll do whatever nerds do to relax, and maybe we'll go see the Grand Canyon." With that, Dean walks to the motel bathroom and closes the door.

Sam hears the click of the lock and groans. Head drooping and hands sprawled across his legs, he tries to calm down. He knows all Dean wants is to escape their everlasting pile of issues, but Sam knows it's all going to go wrong if they're not careful. He wants to go on the attack, face off against Crowley before they start to make new allies, people who could get hurt. He wants to face off against Crowley before the cops realize they're alive again and before whatever new unstoppable, anti-Winchester villain comes along and sets them on the defensive. He wants to stop being the victim and put an end to all these battles.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3:**

Toni Carroll is smart girl. She's been to college, has a stable job, and lives in a spacious, classy apartment. People would tell you she's quick, funny, and just a little bit wild.

Her mom is her best friend and they talk every week, almost every day. She told her mom about her first crush, first boyfriend, and first time. They share even more now that her mother is divorced and on the prowl for a new boyfriend. Toni especially likes to tease her mom, telling her she should become a cougar.

Right now, Toni is on the phone, talking to her mom about the handsomest bad boy she ever did lay eyes on, "Mom, I swear to God, I'm not exaggerating! He was tall, muscletastic- and not the gym muscly either. He was the, 'I've got all these muscles because I use them to do bad boy stuff' muscly! - And oh, those eyes. He had the greenest eyes and there were even freckles all across his nose! I swear to God, this is the type of boy you could be dating if you'd just listen to reason and become a cougar. I know deep down you really want to!"

Toni's apartment complex is currently under renovations, and most people have been staying out of the apartments for the duration of the restorations. Toni though, likes where she lives and isn't bothered by the noise. She likes that it gives her an excuse to go out more often.

Toni is an independent, single girl and she lives alone.

She' still on the phone, but now there's a strange noise outside her apartment. Really though, what's one odd sound amidst a lot of other construction sounds? Toni stays on the phone, talking more about her mom's future plans and work. The noise grows louder, more insistent and Toni gets annoyed, twisting her head towards the front door and frowning.

"Hold on Mom, it's getting pretty loud over here. Looks like the repair men are staying a little late today." Toni sets down her phone and goes to see if the workers are turning in soon.

She mutters under her breath, exasperated, "I swear to God, they're always running late." She is so peeved.

The closer she gets to the door, the more aggravated she gets. In a matter of seconds, she's furious. She's never been so mad in her life; she doesn't bother wondering why she's so mad. All she knows is, she absolutely must make whoever is on the other side of that door _pay_.

Adrenaline and anger fuel her, and she swings the door open so hard the wall cracks. She bellows, "Whoever is making that goddamn noise better stop right fucking now!"

But no one's there. She looks and doesn't see anyone up or down the hall. Just her. She's alone, but the noise is louder still, and so much closer.

It's piercing, digging into her ears and making her blood pound through her veins. Her heart pumps, so, so fast. Too fast. And it hurts, like she is bursting from the inside out. She opens her mouth, as if to whimper, and blood gushes out.

Now she is on the ground, blood flowing, rushing out of her body. Her ears are tearing, as if the noise is physically ripping them out of her skull. She gurgles, mouth still filled with blood, and then she's dead.

Her mom is still on hold, but gets disconnected when the phone explodes.

* * *

Half an hour later, and the apartment is swarming with cops. There are no signs of a struggle, just a dented wall and a destroyed phone. The cops don't have any leads, but then a detective questions the mother and finds one.

Her beautiful, dead daughter had met a man who was, quote, 'a bad boy.' He's tall and handsome with green eyes and the detective has just come back from an informational briefing that is helping her form a very interesting theory.

There sure have been a lot of deaths around this town lately, not to mention, strangely enough, a dug up grave.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine**

**CHAPTER 4:**

Sam and Dean Winchester psychotic, delusional soldiers in a fictitious war against 'monsters'. At least, that was the profile Agent Henricksen had developed on the brothers. Agent Henricksen's work is outdated though, and the boys have changed their methods of crime again. They destroy public property, run credit card scams, assault people, follow occult practices, torture people, go on killing sprees, steal, and have a small following of people who swear the Winchesters have saved their lives.

The last time Sam and Dean 'died,' Agent Dentrel had believed the reports. But not even two days ago, he got a call from some FBI computer geek who was rambling about how witness reports and cameras had caught the boys breaking into SucroCorp.

The alarming thing was, when Dentrel had the reappearance of the Winchesters investigated, the reports stated that SucroCorp's main building was in shambles. Everything was in either destroyed or covered in some strange, gooey substance. Upon further inquiry, Dentrel found out that everyone who was in that day was either dead or had disappeared.

Before the headquarters was attacked, other SucroCorp employees across the country had also been attacked, almost as if the company was being systematically hunted and demolished.

Since his discovery of the Winchesters status of being alive, Dentrel spends his time tracking the brothers and eventually comes across the city he is almost certain the boys are in. He visits the local police, briefs them on how dangerous the brothers are and what to look for when tracking them.

He describes their physical appearance, their beliefs, and their variable brutality. He talks about how Sam is the younger one and has been getting more vicious over the years and he talks about Dean's brash attitude, lust for women, and role as the leader of the duo.

Dentrel has always thought America's crime policies were enough to strong-arm even the worst of criminals. His belief is beginning to waver now that the Winchester brothers have escaped sentencing by faking their deaths at least four times. He's angry that two psychos could rip away the organized, unified front of the government and he decides right then that he's going to be the one to take them down. Enough is enough.

* * *

Stella Laney has been a detective for the Richmond Police Department for the past seven years and never has she come across a case this huge. She was alarmed and excited, her excitement mostly overwhelming her alarm though, when she heard the FBI would be involved in an investigation in her city.

Now, Richmond isn't some backwater, boring, idyllic town, but it's also not a powerhouse of crime either. Det. Laney keeps herself busy with investigations and paper reports, but after her first 3 years on the unit, she had a handle on pretty much any type of case that came across her desk. Now though, she's learning about a whole new breed of criminal.

Her department's leader had called over all of the detectives, ordering them to the conference room where they will be briefed on some new investigation. When they were all in the room, ready and waiting, an FBI agent had introduced himself as Agent Dentrel.

Agent Dentrel tells her and the other detectives all about two brothers. The brothers' lives are made of lies and delusions and pain, and it's like nothing she's ever heard of before.

It makes her mind spark alive with attentiveness and curiosity, two traits she has in excess and part of why she because a cop in the first place. She is ready to dive into the case, bury herself in notes and research and corroborate with the fired up, strict agent.

Later that day, she gets a call about a strange murder. Ideas are racing across her skull and they only get more focused when she arrives at the crime scene.

* * *

"Agent Dentrel! Agent Dentrel, may I speak to you?" Det. Laney is back at the station, heart racing after visiting the crime scene and she thinks she is about to be embroiled in the type of mystery she had dreamed about at the academy.

Agent Dentrel keeps walking, but motions for her to join him. He doesn't say anything, but she figures he's probably waiting for her to get to her point.

"Well, you see here sir, I just came back from a crime scene and... Well, I think it might be related to your case." She's suddenly nervous, as if she isn't a professional and she could have misread all of the blatantly obvious clues.

She's not wrong though, as Agent Dentrel will tell her in ten minutes after a cursory viewing of her investigation.

"Good work Det. Laney." Agent Dentrel and Det. Laney are in a backroom with papers and read outs and evidence sprawled across all available surfaces and they both look overjoyed, passionate.

Dentrel is smiling for the first time since Det. Laney has seen him, and he says to her, "You didn't know Agent Henricksen, but he was a friend and I absolutely will not let his sacrifice be in vain. I have waited so long for this."

He grows more intense and looks straight at her, telling her, "I promise you Det. Laney, we're going to catch these sons of bitches."

Det. Laney feels a conspiring smirk spread across her face as he speaks. The hunt is on.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry if there's not as much action as you'd like. I promise there's more action and dead people and stuff coming within the next few days (I publish a couple chapters each day fyi)!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**CHAPTER 5**

He's going to throw up. When he wakes up, that's his first thought.

Actually, his first thought is that he's never really had to clean dishes because he and Dean move around too much for that. But his first significant thought is that he's going to throw up. Then he opens his eyes and realizes that he's not at the motel. Good thing he decided to wear pants to bed.

Sam feels strange. Like his brain is buzzing and his limbs are swollen to the point of stiff immobility. He is so confused and lost. He's literally lost. There is a wall behind him and streets spanning to his right and left. A road lies in front of him and he guesses he's glad it's so late, because otherwise he would be drawing a lot of attention to himself.

Sam tries to figure out what happened. He went to bed, perfectly fine and not drunk, and now he's… somewhere.

He's unsteady as he stands and luckily the wall is a solid against his back, but it doesn't much register as puzzlement overwhelms. His thoughts are muddled and he thinks in circles. Where am I? What happened? Where's Dean? Where am I? And the only thing he can think to do is move. So he does, step after step, wavering side to side.

He should go back to the motel, but he's not sure where that is. Instead, he picks a direction and goes. He'll run into Dean or find their room or come across an open store and use its phone. God, he's so tired.

His hand trails along the sides of buildings, as he struggles to keep balance and he ends up accidently clocking one of the few people actually out at this time of night with his elbow. Then he hears indistinct shouting and relaxes instantly. It is a voice he recognizes no matter how far off or hazy or inarticulate it is. Dean.

He gets closer and now Sam can hear what Dean is saying.

"Sam! What the hell? I've been looking for you everywhere." He's yelling, out of breath, anxious. Sam smiles vaguely, glad that Dean found him, but the feeling vanishes as he's left trying to explain to Dean when he doesn't have a reason or clue.

He furrows his brow in fuzzy countenance and responds with, "I don't know. Dean, I have no idea how I got here."

Dean heaves Sam back into a more upright stance and mutters about getting his heavy pain in the ass brother back to their room. But Dean's troubled, Sam can tell, even though he knows Dean won't mention that.

He's proven right when Dean suddenly smirks and says, "I told you this break would pay off. Looks like geek boy got his freak on yesterday. How much beer did you drink?"

Sam's head droops in a tired display and he's mumbling, "Didn't drink Dean."

For a moment, Dean's quiet, but then he heaves a heavy breath and says, "I was hoping you weren't going to say that."

And then Dean is looking around, trying to track clues or movement, but sees nothing.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Supernatural does. Not. Belong. To. Me. Ba Humbug :(**

**CHAPTER 6**

It starts with reviewing the notes. Learn the basics; get an idea of what they're like. Learn their habits, their likes, their dislikes. You set your mind to it, your whole life becomes this, you see everything in shades of gore and Winchester.

Then, you gather the evidence. You look at clues and recent deaths and make the connection between legally dead serial killers and current murders. You reference SucroCorp videos and sightings of the brothers and explain the similarity in crimes they have been linked to and crimes you suspect they committed.

Backed with research and proof, you make a plan and involve the people you work for. The FBI, your captain, the District Attorney office. You request more resources and BOLOs and canine tracking units and a manhunt.

Then you wait.

It all happens in a matter of hours and a day. A lifetime of crime and mystery jammed down your throat and directed into action. 27 hours you've worked this case. 27 hours you haven't slept. And Agent Dentrel is working right beside you. He digs through papers and baggies of evidence and pushes for action alongside you.

You're lawful partners fighting against criminal partners.

Finally, you start seeing results. Yes, you will get more resources. Yes, a BOLO will be released. No, there will be no canine unit sent out- they're a hazard to the city, especially when there is no finite proof that the Winchesters are here, blah, blah, blah. No, a manhunt is not permissible.

The results are mixed and you have to work harder.

* * *

"Det. Laney, will you come here for a second? This young man has some very interesting information to share." Agent Dentrel motions for the detective and he looks triumphant.

Laney rushes over, papers gripped tight in anticipation. "Well? What's so interesting?"

The boy turns to her. He is an adult, but he looks young and unsettled. He clears his throat, swallowing a few times, and Laney catalogues the behaviors as signs of nervousness. Then, gathering himself enough to speak, he tells the detective what he told the agent.

"Miss, uh, miss detective? I think, I think I might have seen one of the Winchesters last night?" It comes out as a question, but Laney gets the feeling that the boy is not mistaken. It's not often that a person like him, inexperienced and intimidated by authority, will share what he witnessed if he has a good chance of being wrong.

She nods, trying to not to smile like a shark on the trail of blood, and tells him she and Agent Dentrel would be like to question him further, to hear more details. He nods, lost but willing, and she leads him to an empty room down a hall filled with rooms.

"So, you only saw one of the Winchesters?" Agent Dentrel asks the question, maintaining a level of professionalism and neutral inflection. He doesn't want to lead the witness.

The boy has become more at ease and is not at all hesitant to clarify. "Yes! I remember their faces turning up on the news lots of times over the last few years. The killing spree they went on last year? Oh, that made my skin crawl. I still don't much like going to banks. But, as I was saying! I saw the younger one. Sam? The one with the long, shaggy mop head? Right, him. It was definitely Sam. He looked kind of off kilter. Boy I almost-"

The boy is eager to chat, filling the air with civilian feelings in the face of true monsters, and Det. Laney wants to change his focus.

"'Off kilter'? What do you mean by that James?"

James, the boy, startles, as if he's just realized the significance of his observation. "Oh, right! Yeah, that Sam guy was not looking too good. Really, that's probably the only reason he didn't kill me! Anyways, he was just stumbling around, leaning against the buildings as he walked. Yeah, he walked right by me and I got a real hard elbow jab to my side. Yeouch! It's why I noticed him."

Laney licks her lip, trying to contain her eagerness. This is huge. They have a witness and now she's sure the boys are still in town. Probably not for long, but for long enough. All they have to do is see if James can identify a picture of Sam as the man he saw.

* * *

"Yes sir. That is exactly what I'm saying. Sir, the Winchesters are definitely in town. We have a witness who can corroborate for the whereabouts of Sam Winchester around one o'clock at night."

Agent Dentrel stands tall as he reveals the news. Det. Laney stands right beside him, equally sure and intent.

"If that's the case Agent Dentrel, report to the captain. I will arrange for the manhunt, and you will help the captain strategize our search." The man looks impenetrable, but his response is positive and Det. Laney finds herself filled with relief.

* * *

Squad cars are setting a perimeter around the city, setting base around the major roads, highways. The cars move in controlled pattern, up and down designated routes and circling the city. It is not impenetrable, but it's overpowering, enduring. The brothers with be found. Give it time.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Breaking news, Supernatural isn't mine.**

**CHAPTER 7:**

Sam collapses onto his bed as soon as they get back to their room, but Dean isn't tired anymore. Waking up to find your brother missing will do that to you.

It's never a good idea to write off weird occurrences, but Dean also knows even when you know something strange is going on, you won't be able to do anything until the situation becomes clearer. Right now, the best he can do is to deck out their room in runes, charms, and other supernatural wards.

Then he turns on the police radio and borrows Sam's computer. He doubts he'll find anything, but he'll look anyways. Over the past few days, he's heard nothing about people disappearing or sleepwalking like Sam, and his research only serves to further support what he already knows.

**-10-4, I'm on my way sir.—**

**-Alright detective, report to the captain at the end of your shift.—**

**-Copy that, sir.—**

**-I want a 10-68 from every squad car every hour and a half. These brothers are dangerous, there's no telling if they're aware of what's going on or what they'll do about any pesky cops in their way.—**

**-I'll tell my officers to be careful, sir.—**

Shit. The cops are after them.

"Sam." Dean stays seated, using Sam's laptop to hack into the police's records. Sam doesn't move and Dean speaks louder. "Sam!"

"Huh? Wassit D'n?" His brother's a mess of exhaustion and slurred words as he tries to communicate with Dean. Dean allows himself a half-smile at the state of Sam's hair. It's horrendous.

"Come on. Get your pretty ass up and walking Sammy." Dean looks at Sam, says more seriously, "The cops know we're in town."

Sam blows out a breath, shakes his head, and rubs his bleary eyes vigorously. Then he's up and his giant feet carry him half way across the room in a matter of seconds. He leans over Dean to see the laptop screen. It's all there. Plans detailing a city-wide search, a call to civilians to keep a look out for the Winchester brothers, routes of squad car searches. The works.

"Damn cops, fighting the good guys." Dean's flabbergasted. They fight to protect people, sleep in piss poor motel rooms, sacrifice themselves and the cops always get involved in something they know nothing about. If there was a hunt in the city, they'd be working themselves up to being bait and getting killed. As it is, Sam and Dean will just leave Richmond and never look back.

"Let's go Dean." Sam must have used his octopus limbs to pack, because it's been less than two minutes since he's been up and everything is in their bags and hanging off of Sam's shoulders.

It's dusk when they leave and they're hours away from the city when Dean finally decides to pull over and sleep. He'd only had a few hours of sleep before Sam's Houdini act and after that had worked straight through the day.

* * *

It's so dark in this room. It's always dark. Sometimes he forgets what colors look like in this room. Except for red. It only shines brighter in this room.

Sometimes he can hear people laughing and talking, but he knows it's in his head. He's good at telling the difference between hallucinations and reality now.

Reality is pain and fear and the man.

He's changing, in this room. He's not the man he was and sometimes he forgets what his life was. He can recall everything that has happened in this room though.

He has bled and cried in this room. He has been held and soothed in this room. He has been alone in this room. He has spent hours with the man in this room.

The room is hard and cold. It had seemed almost sterile when he first arrived, but no longer. It smells of fear and human odor now. Sometimes, he will run his hands across the floor, friction growing and growing and growing until his hands are raw and tingle.

The wall spans about 5 strides by 5 strides. He had walked through the room once, before he no longer could. He wishes he never had because it feels so constricting. He remains stationary, unable to move, and he wishes he could pretend the room spans forever. It would feel safer somehow. He's never safe.

He hears a creaking sound, as if a door is opening. His heart hammers within his chest and he trembles pathetically.

* * *

Dean gasps as he jerks awake. Something within him feels unnerved and he automatically looks to the passenger seat for his brother. He's gone again. Dammit.

The driver's door swings open and slam shut as Dean makes his way out of the car.

He's yelling now, yelling "Sam! Sammy!" And then he sees large footprints heading back towards Richmond. What the hell Sam?

He's trotting in the direction of his brother, trying to calculate just how far Sam could have gotten. He's going to have to start tying his brother up when it's time to sleep.

A distant figure about a hundred yards in front of him catches his eye. He can tell it's his brother.

"Sam!" Dean runs, catching up to his brother, and grabs at Sam's shoulder when he does reach him. He bodily turns his brother towards him and Sam towers over him, unsteady.

Interrupting whatever Dean was planning on saying, he speaks, "I can't leave." Sam looks dazed and sick and his hand trembles.

It alarms Dean, making his voice come out harsh, "What? Why not Sam?" Sam jerks away from Dean's touch, as if he thinks Dean will hurt him.

Seconds later and he's looking away to the city skyline, saying, "It hurts Dean."

Sam turns away from Dean and continues walking back towards the city.

The cops are on their tail, something is wrong with Sam, and they're going back to Richmond. Dean doesn't understand what the hell is happening, but he knows one thing. He's not leaving without his brother.


	9. Chapter 8

_The cops are on their tail, something is wrong with Sam, and they're going back to Richmond. Dean doesn't understand what the hell is happening, but he knows one thing. He's not leaving without his brother._

**CHAPTER 8:**

**_Now _**_11 days after Sam and Dean return to Richmond_

He's rushing now. Guns pointed to the ground and giving cues to the other handful of officers under his command. Twenty feet. Ten feet. They're at the door. There's no hesitation as he kicks open the door and he's sees blood.

The brothers are still here, standing above a body.

Sam and Dean he brothers have been evading law enforcement for years and now they're standing right in front him. Agent Dentrel spares a glance to his assumed partner, Det. Laney. He turns to eye the boys again and the brothers are about to run. He can see it in their stances.

"Don't move!" To their credit, both brothers do stop.

Det. Laney wastes no time, stepping forward and begins addressing them. "Sam and Dean Winchester. You're both wanted for outstanding warrants, vandalism, credit card scams, robbery, assault, torture, suspected murder, and murder."

Once the obligatory explanation of why the brothers are under arrest, Agent Dentrel and Det. Laney move as a pair against the brothers, wary but ready to arrest them. Then the situation escalates.

One of the brothers moves his hand and neither Dentrel of Laney pause to think about what they're going to do, they just grab their guns and aim.

* * *

**_Then _**_7 days earlier (3 days after Sam and Dean return to Richmond)_

A murder has been called in and it's a waitress from a local diner. According to coworkers, she was closing the store alone the night she died. She was a mother and a daughter and working on finishing her degree. All anyone has are kind words to say about her. There is shock and tears for her death and no clues as to why someone would do this to her.

* * *

Agent Dentrel is visiting the scene of a Miss Dorothy Bloom's murder. Det. Laney had suggested that maybe it was related to the Winchesters' presence in Richmond, and Dentrel is inclined to agree. It is gory and destitute enough to match Dean's liking for hurting women, and the TV situated between wall and counter within the store is set to the local news channel. Around the general time of Miss Bloom's death, there was a bulletin reminder on the Winchester case's status, along with the mug shots of Sam and Dean.

Dentrel has a theory. He thinks the Winchesters have been frequenting the diner for meals and Miss Bloom just last night realized who they were. Dentrel thinks the brothers were keeping an eye on her- maybe to see if she would realize, maybe they already were planning on doing something to her- and saw that she was going to call the cops.

His theory is vindicated when witness reports begin filing in, all saying they recognize Sam and Dean Winchesters' mug shots as two brothers who have been in the diner repeatedly the past few days.

The brothers are good though, and there's no tangible evidence.

* * *

_2 days earlier (9 days after Sam and Dean return to Richmond)_

A case of assault is reported. The caller describes hearing screams and angry yelling somewhere in the vicinity. Dentrel knows there are several abandoned buildings near where the call was made. The building is near where the waitress was murdered and he gathers a team to take with him as back up and goes to investigate.

He performs a systematic search of the area, focusing on any empty buildings the Winchesters could be hiding in. In the third house they enter, Dentrel sees a man tied to a chair. He's bleeding and covered in gashes and one of the officers goes to check on his status as the room is cleared.

The man is alive, but barely. His pulse is slow and the damage to his nerves and muscles is extensive. Dentrel thinks he would have been better off dead.

There is no sign of the perpetrator (Perpetrator**s**, Dentrel thinks privately) and the building quickly becomes a crime scene.

Background research shows that the man was a part of the city's underbelly. He sold fake IDs and credit cards, and Dentrel notes that he's a man the Winchesters would likely have made themselves acquainted with.

A few hours after the raid, a report comes from the hospital about the victim, Jerry Vinton. He's comatose and unlikely to ever wake up.

* * *

**Now **_11 days after Sam and Dean return to Richmond_

Everyone is tense. The brothers and Agent Dentrel and Det. Laney are in limbo, a momentary pause that spans so much longer. And then the brothers look ready to sprint and Dentrel and Laney fire.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. **

**Chapter 9**

They're gone. She'd fired at them and oh, are they good, because they were already moving when her finger clenched on the trigger.

Agent Dentrel signals to her and they're on the same wavelength. The chase is on and the brothers will be caught because they have at least 10 officers in the vicinity focused on catching them, with more who will be called by dispatch.

She runs, arms swinging, gun heavy at her side, and she doesn't even know if this is the direction Sam and Dean ran down. She trusts the others to do their part, so she's going to put her all into this. She sprints and then she's covered the distance from their room to the main road, looking everywhere within eyesight along the way, and the Winchesters just aren't here.

**-This is Det. Laney. I'm breaking pursuit on W. Boulevard. There are multiple officers checking the other routes the suspects may have gone—**

She makes her way back to the Winchesters' hideout, winded in her defeat, and listens as the other officers radio in one by one.

* * *

Agent Dentrel is the only one to not have called in yet, and she's imagining him, feet smacking across pavement, in hot pursuit and cuffing the bastards. They'll bask in the glory of accomplishing what no one has and maybe have a celebratory dinner together.

Caught in her daydreams, she's jarred from feelings of fictitious victory and joy when Agent Dentrel's radio finally sounds off. It's not him that speaks though. It's the brothers.

**- Hey guys, looks like you lost something.—**

Her mind is filling with dread and the bastard sounds so cavalier that Laney wants to smash his brain in. Still, she listens closely, taking the chance to at least profile him.

**- At least, I'm pretty sure he's one of yours. Let's see—**

She can hear rustling on the other end looking for something, probably something that will identify Dentrel.

**-** **Well, almost one of yours. It says here on his badge that he's a G-man. FBI, those guys are always bugging us.—**

He's talking to his brother again, and so far Laney hasn't heard anything that helps her figure out what they're up to. Are they going to kill Dentrel? Maybe. Are they going to use him as a bargaining chip? Could be. Are they going to host a party in honor of him and all of the FBI? For all she knows, they just might. These two damaged, psychotic _children_ are unpredictable and fickle. They could do anything.

**- Alright, listen here jackass. You've got my partner and I want to know just what you think you're doing. As it is, we've got a manhunt set up around the whole city and the both of you ****_will_**** be caught. Kill Dentrel though, and I can guarantee you that any red-blooded cop with eyes on you will shoot you in the face on sight.—**

What? Laney absolutely hates mind games. Dentrel has a knack for them, but he's not here. So, direct and brutal is the way these negotiations will go. The rest of the officers are silent, frozen, watching their superior in what looks to be a very short, very violent negotiation.

Amidst the shocked quiet is a noise on the other line. It's laughter.

**- I like you! So which part of law enforcement are you from? Oh, oh! Let me guess, you're the sexy redhead who's been working with Dentrel as temporary partners?—**

No one responds and the man (Dean, Laney's decided) keeps talking.

**- Look. We're not going to hurt your boyfriend here, but there have been a lot of deaths around here and we need for them to stop. I'd suggest all of you stay out of our way if you don't want anyone else getting hurt.—**

**- I'm going to find you monsters. I'm going to hunt you down and stop you. I'm going to get my partner back, so ****_I'd suggest_**** you two give up before you get hurt.-**

Laney laces her voice with venom and allows her usually buried intensity to show. No one knows what it's like to be against an angry Laney, but these two killers are about to find out. She spends all her time around immoral scum; she's learned a few things.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The show is so not mine.**

**CHAPTER 10:**

He wakes up to the sound of classic rock blaring and the whirring of an engine. His skull is filled with a heavy, throbbing pain and he knows he must have taken a whack to the head. His whole face feels swollen in a sort of exaggerated way and he has to coach himself to open his eyes.

He sees the back of two heads in front of him. One head is covered in faintly wavy hair, unruly and long. The other is covered in short, styled hair. A jolt of understanding rushes through him in the form of pure adrenaline as he realizes who the two heads are.

It's the Winchesters. He's been kidnapped by the Winchesters.

The entire interior of the car is layered in intricate designs he assumes are influenced by the brothers' occultist beliefs. He tries not to look at the signs; they disturb him and remind him of what could very well happen to him.

He realizes the brothers are talking.

"Did we really have to kidnap him Dean? I mean, we could have just wacked him and left!" It's the bigger one talking and really, Dentrel doesn't want to think in terms of first names. It's too personal. Too much of a reminder of his newfound position.

"You know why we did Sam," a clipped response. That's irritation and that does not bode well for Dentrel.

The big one- no, he's going to face this like a man and use his big boy words- _Sam _sighs and signals his assent, "Yeah."

Damn, there goes his chance of at least one sympathetic hope.

Not that Dentrel really expected anything anyways. Though he hasn't said anything during the profiling of the two, something about Sam Winchester always rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was his put upon compassion and naivety in college and on other occasions since then. No one in their twisted family could possibly be so _normal._

Suddenly, as if he's read Dentrel's mind, Sam turns in his seat. Sam looks terrible. Not in any sort of gruesome, murderous way, but rather, in a sick, pasty, dying sort of way. In spite of appearances though, Sam flashes him a grin.

"You're up… officer." Sam looks sheepish. _Like he has the right,_ Dentrel thinks bitterly and looks away. He really doesn't care about what this criminal has to say and will not give him the satisfaction of showing him attention.

"I'm really sorry about all of this. I know you won't believe anything we tell you, but really, we _are _the good guys! I know you think all of these deaths are ours, but we didn't murder any of those people."

Dentrel wonders where Sam is going with his little speech. After all, there's no sense in trying to win over someone already in line for death.

"We're just trying to help. That's why we took you with us. There's something dangerous out there and we're pretty sure it's going to try to kill you now." Maybe he wants sympathy? Or was that the threat of a delusional man?

"Anyways, just.. Just hold tight I guess? You just might see something that'll change your mind about us." He looks vaguely worried about this and his face is twisted up in some sort of half-smiling, half-grimacing expression.

Dentrel gets it though. Sam is making a play at getting a more docile hostage. Not going to happen. Dentrel looks up now, and stares the monster straight in the eyes.

"No." It's almost a growl and Dentrel is pleased that Sam looks less the comfortable with his response. "You two are monsters. You may disguised by distinguished features and young faces and _charisma_, but I am not going to be of your Stockholm victims."

Dentrel thinks maybe he should leave it there, at least give himself a chance of not being beaten to a pulp before he dies, but then he remembers that's likely what will happen anyways. "Do you remember Henricksen, the last FBI agent that captured you two? He was a friend and I won't forget that you destroyed every aspect of his life. He gave everything to catch you two."

His gaze has been switching between the two brothers, gauging their reactions. This time, he turns to Dean and sees his fingers grip the steering wheel tighter. Good, the bastard can feel. Maybe Dentrel can make a play at some sort of mind game with the two. After all, physically, he's outmatched. There are two of them, and though Sam looks almost out for the count, he's still humungous. If he were a friend, Dentrel might even call him Sasquatch, or Moose.

Sam has not shied from Dentrel's piercing glares, and though Sam looks saddened, troubled, he still responds to Dentrel. "I understand."

The rest of the car ride is silent as Dentrel tries to work through the ropes he's tied with.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to a much more fortunate person.**

**CHAPTER 11:**

This is really not good at all. Since they've been in Richmond, everyone that comes into prolonged contact with Dean and him has died.

The woman Dean slept with the night before Sam disappeared for the first time. The papers said her name was Toni Carroll. Sam doesn't know anything about her personally, but there is a certain amount of… closeness to be had in the _activities_ Dean and she had participated in together.

Then there was Dorothy from the diner. She would come up to the both of them, saying _"Anything I can get you two dears?"_ and would offer them free desserts. The cops said that she had been torn apart. Sam's heart still aches when he thinks of her and how alone her children must be now. Even with a grandmother to look after them, the death of a mother leaves holes.

The man they visited multiple times to get fake ids and credit cards. Beaten and comatose. The man was curt and curmudgeonly, but Sam had seen the haunted look in his eyes. A soldier, maybe even a hunter, like them. Must have been some time ago, but there was an unspoken camaraderie between them. It's why the man had given them everything they needed for cheaper that Sam knew it would have been otherwise.

Now, Dentrel had come face to face with them. Based on their experiences from the past two weeks, that wouldn't have been enough contact to get him killed, but Dentrel has been very involved in their lives before then. He and Dean have been keeping tabs on all of the officers, and Dentrel has been obsessing over him and his brother. So, Dean had decided better safe than sorry and carted Dentrel off with them after knocking him out.

Sam gets it, he really, really does. But, they're already in enough trouble and this is making an already impossible situation worse. Still, Sam knows it was the right call. If only Dentrel knew that.

Honestly though, even if Sam wishes everyone would just believe them, his tired, brain-dead head must be at an all-time low, because he doesn't know _why the hell_ he thought talking to Dentrel would help. All that did was make the agent angrier and bring up old wounds. Henricksen.

Dentrel's verbose mouth sure had shut Sam up though. The rest of the ride was quiet as they made their way out of the city, _for good this time_.


End file.
